


To Train a Man

by canongoddess



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-21 13:51:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11945613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canongoddess/pseuds/canongoddess
Summary: Cora Harper is sent as an Initiative liaison after the battle for Meridian to help advance the bioelectrics of the angaran soldiers. She hates all the warm welcomes and the utter openness of the people. It is tiring and strenuous being the oddity on a planet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know that I haven't finished S&C, but I had this idea one day. I wanted to imagine a different angaran culture - one shaped by openness. Also, I wanted an older Evfra to tinker with. S&C's Evfra had most of his tragedy occur in his young adult life. This will be different. I also haven't spent a lot of time on Cora, so she may be a little OOC. I shall try though.

She had come to Aya because of bioelectrics. She had been kicked off the Tempest because of bioelectrics. She was just that good, and the Moshae had seen it. During the battle for Meridian, the Moshae had been in the sky attacking the kett ships with bioelectrics. She had been doing the same with biotics. Their eyes had met. The Moshae had given her a conspiratorial nod and a smile, and Cora’s fate had been sealed. She had been ‘requested’ by the Moshae for a deployment on Aya to train the Resistance in biotic technique. Cora had argued that any asari huntress could have done the job, but Sara had been all too eager to cement their relationship with the angara after the battle.

She had crossed her arms and said, “Sharing knowledge with our allies will make us stronger, and I trust no one else to do that better than you, Cora.”

And how could she have argued? She graciously backed out of the room and proceeded to strike a deal with Lexi for room accommodation in return for caring for her roses. She was going to have an anatomically correct angaran skeleton residing in her space, but her roses would be alive when she returned. Now she was boarding in the bunks of an Ayan domicile. The privacy that had been so precious in the Milky Way was looked at with disdain on Aya. Everyone needed to be with someone, and it was killing her. The personal boundaries were nonexistent, and she had already been propositioned three times this week. Apparently, tension relief was not a taboo either. She had afterwards strived to create an aire of unapproachable superiority. It had not worked very well. She had been here a week and still was receiving concerned comments about her ‘emptiness’ without a field. This constant questioning had led her to seek refuge in the only place she felt respected: the training field.

She would drill, scold, yell, and punch to her heart’s content, and nobody would speak ill of her. At the end of the week, she would wipe sweat off her brow and spar for her own pleasure. It kept her from being questioned in the curious innocent way that the angara had in the domicile, in the baths, and in any place that the crew on the Tempest would never have spoken to her. Oddly enough, the only place that she could escape this vexation was in the training arena and in public. The angara would be too busy entertaining one another to bother looking too closely at her. She simply blended with the few other humans on the planet: a curiosity that didn’t produce a field therefore didn’t require attention.

This is how she first noticed him. She started taking lunches on the tavetaan terrace siting with her back to the rail, because she felt safer with nobody behind her, and she enjoyed watching the others interact inventing suppositions and stories and generally casing the joint. She had proceeded to her table only to find it occupied by a slight scarred angara holding a datapad. She frowned and slid into another table with the back against a concrete wall and only 75% of her normal view to her displeasure. She knew the man, of course. Evfra de Tershaav was a man to be feared and respected. He was arrogant, hard to please, and a general asinine pain. And he had taken her table – which made him worse than all the other things.

He took no notice of her, so she turned her nose away, ate her food in silence, and paid. She thought that would be the end of it. He was there the next day and the next and the next. It made her a little angrier inside with each smug sip of coffee. She assumed he drank it black like his soul. She knew he was a leader and a remarkable one, but she liked her solitary place that she had found in this city of gossips and was not keen on being shuffled through the tavetaan dining space. Angara would not always allow one to remain seated alone, but their desire to be surrounded left the solitary table unfilled. She had been usurped, and her haven had quickly turned into a game of Russian roulette. Sometimes she had privacy, and sometimes she had naught. But always Evfra sat alone at her table drinking a steaming coffee and reading a datapad. Alone.

When all the other angara were so bent on spending time together, he was alone. This observation became somewhat of a hobby for her during the next weeks. When another angara would approach her in the domicile proposing they find a private double room, she would decline and leave. Hopefully, she wouldn’t see the stranger in the morning. These sorts of propositions were always given by the young and the untrained. When she mentioned this to the Moshae, she had simply shrugged and commented on how all must learn to live with rejection. Cora simply did not want to teach that lesson. When this chain of events would occur, she would find herself walking the streets in the evening her feet carrying her unbidden to the tavetaan. She looked up at a window above the street one day when a flash of light caught her eye, and he was there the screen of the datapad reflecting the flash of a streetlight for a brief moment. She would walk out the showers sometimes to see him striding down the hall alone. She knew rationally that this was improbably and nigh impossible. A general and a diplomat cannot simply be solitary. There were functions – unbearable crushing functions but functions all the same.

She was in her domicile one night when Amarek approached her. He was not one of the young idiots but a soldier in her class whose bioelectrics were very good while still falling short of excellent. It was not his skill that made him improve but endless hours of sweat and practice which she respected. After all, she had seen others more gifted than herself go farther, but with her diligence she had liked to think that she had caught up to them. She had no doubt he could do the same.

He sat on her bunk as she organized and chatted with her asking about the Milky Way and her past. She spoke short abrupt sentences. She was uncomfortable with the other angara listening around her as they readied for sleep – not with Amarek. While he was a soldier, he was one that she had thought with time could become a friend.

“You are nervous,” he said with a tilt to his head giving his wide eyes a more innocent appearance.

“No. I’m crowded,” she growled as she reached down to put her things back in their place.

A warmth covered her hand, and she looked up to see Amarek looking down at her. His seat on the bed at a higher vantage point than her crouch. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t pull away – more from shock than fear. Amarek was not one she had expected this from. She had never gotten the feeling that she was an oddity from him like the young men and women who simply wanted to experiment with an alien. His wide eyes shone out of his unusual green skin, and she could see no signs of the usual human shakiness. He was open and simple, not being coy or secretive. He removed his hand from hers.

“Is it that bad?”

She blinked at his casual air. “I like privacy, yes. I miss my single room on the Tempest.”

She hoped that didn’t sound too forward. It really wasn’t what she had intended. She didn’t know if she would consider Amarek for a lover or a partner, but she didn’t want to outright refuse him at that moment. In truth, her usual blunt nature was not extended to her new friend. It was easy to speak harsh words to strangers but less so to a man she would see tomorrow regardless of what happened tonight.

“Is sharing not better than isolation? We are isolated at work, yes? Would it not benefit the society in regards to understanding to live with one another?”

“I… don’t know.” She glanced around the room uncertainly feeling a sheen of sweat ghost across her, and she wiped her hands on her trousers crossing them around her chest. She was the odd one. The skin tone, the body, the language, and the customs all singling her out for attention.

He shrugged and stood yawning, so she could see his canines. He glanced her way and seemed pleased to see her watching him with interest even if her posture said no. He didn’t pry anymore nor show any other sign of his earlier lingering touch other than the faint upturned lips and the sharpening of his pupils as they trained on her.

“You are tough on us,” he said rubbing one of his shoulders and smiling at her.

“Soldiers are not pets,” she snapped. She was uncomfortable with this attention – his and her bunkmates who were now starting to stare perhaps noticing her biotics.

He laughed easily. She liked that about him. “Regardless, sleep is in short enough supply as it is. Perhaps you should as well.”

It was a sentence, but his eyes asked a question, and his mouth smiled roguishly. She knew superiority was an issue here, but she was not protected by the angaran decorum. As an adjunct and an outsider, she was viewed as more of an equal – they to learn from her and she from them. Neither the young fools’ nor Amarek’s advances were considered scandalous. If she were to lean toward promiscuity, this would be an ideal situation.

“I prefer my soldiers well rested before their training.”

“Maybe you should give us a day off every now and then,” he rumbled before turning to leave.

She was glad that he was gone – in a way. The bunkmates were whispering amongst themselves seeming more disappointed than anything else. The gossip had died quickly as each posturing suitor came to her and was sent away. Amarek was not young – nearly thirty-five – and therefore not a boy. He had much more to offer her in terms of experience and according to angaran standards would have been an ideal partner and at the very least bedmate.  She thought it might have happened had he been fiercer and she in private, but she did not want anything began like this.

She picked a light jacket off the shelf. It was in angaran colors. Her Initiative uniform quickly became dirty and more clothes were provided in dark purples and blues – typical recruit wear. When she had mentioned this, she had been informed of her status as an adjunct. If the Pathfinder had needed to be clothed – as an official, she would have been given Evfra’s colors – light blues and white. Where everyone lived in an equally shared war, the only identification methods seemed to be in rank.

The Ayan night bit her exposed skin, and bugs hummed in the air. She hadn’t encountered anything too awful in the night, since she had come. The Moshae had given her sprays in her pack for afflas – little stinging insects that winked in the night, but they seemed to favor the angara over her foreign blood. The spray hadn’t been opened. She had forgotten it the first night and not needed it after that.

The tavetaan was crowded around the bar, but she was pleased to see her table empty. She slid into it and ordered a drink. She preferred to lose herself in anonymity than chance the queries of her domicile. A krogan sat drinking quietly. She saw the tilt of his head and the way he seemed to not taste the drink as it burned down his throat. The bartender refilled it and charged him without protest or acceptance. She thought that he had lost something or someone in the battle – a woman, perhaps, and his trade goods which he ferried between the Nexus and Aya were in quarantine. She figured he was a pilot, because his armor had streaks of black running down it – probably a fluid leak. He thought his time would be better spent drinking than waiting on his goods until morning. Of course, it was just a guess.

Two asari sat giggling at an angara in between them. He wore a recruit’s underarmor and a veteran’s rofjinn with a fallen warrior band ringing the tail– an heirloom she guessed. The man was too young and too alive to have earned it himself. The asari seemed to not know or not care. The smart one wore glasses and a maxi dress trying to show the curves her self-confidence said she did indeed possess. The pretty one dressed similarly though more drab – insecure she thought. The smart one was the alpha. They would both go home with him.

A guess again. It was her hobby. She judged – a survival skill that had helped her many times. She looked for clues and made rationalizations only to stay away from her own thoughts. It was Amarek this night and could easily be another tomorrow. She looked around the bar for a challenge. An angaran male reading with a group – sharp wit, asks too many questions, doesn’t understand the difference between bragging and talking. A human sitting alone – angry, dislikes the planet, from Voeld due to lack of jacket. An angaran woman – pretty smiles but bored and polite. The man that approached her is an intruder to her discussion but nervous and untried. She pities him. They leave together.

A flash caught her eye, and she looked up. Evfra was leaning out his office window. The omni tool on his wrist had caught the light of the bar. He watched the patrons intently – the leaving couple, the krogan, and a new one. She followed his gaze. A human man sat with an angaran woman – their heads together laughing. She leaned to him. The man’s dark skin contrasted beautifully with her light blue. They’re in love. It was new she guessed. About a week. They hit it off. He brought her flowers. She baked him a gift in return. Now they had jokes – probably about culture shock. Knowing angara, probably about sex.

She looked back to Evfra. He looked stern – unlike the other angara. He neither smiled at the couple nor looked away. He only stared at them. She heard their voices grow louder. They stood up to leave. The man paid the bill and subtly slipped credits to the angaran woman. Her smile vanished. A curt nod took its place. The man stood staring at her before smiling sadly to himself and walking toward the docks. She was surprised. She looked incredulously up at Evfra wondering if he had known. How could he have seen something like that so far away? Why would that be the story he would find?

He took a long drink of his coffee – definitely black, and his eyes turned locking onto hers. He didn’t start, and she was certain she could not have narrowed her eyes any more in suspicion than they were. She simply met his - steady, calm, and calculating. Neither looked away. Her drink grew cold in front of her.

Angara had been easy to read. Their open emotions were all around her, and while she had not used her biotics to unravel such clues before, she could feel the base emotions as well as any clumsy child – hate, lust, joy, and love. It was only when they were strong and not crowded together in the same space – something that was rare on Aya. But this inability to hide had never taught the angara to deceive. They would sometimes lure or trap as Amarek had demonstrated with his fangs and flexing, but they wouldn’t outright lie. This man kept himself trapped in his office and confined to a life of a single organism – apart from the ebb and flow of the culture around him. She found herself wondering what he was thinking.

Her eyes didn’t waver as the thoughts became more pronounced in her mind than the discomfort of staring. Aggressive? No. Calm? Not exactly. Collected? Yes, he was collected. Was he overworked or harried? The distance prevented her from telling. What did he worry about or desire? The end of the war? Peace? On the surface, it would seem so, but every angara desired peace. She was searching for something specific to him. She needed a clue.

He raised the coffee cup to take a drink leaning back into the shadows of his office. The windows shut, and she imagined him to still be standing behind the panes watching her as she paid her bill and meandered down the pavement to her domicile. That night she dreamed of him standing behind that window. His scar was pronounced against his face – a divet in his skin carved permanently. His pupils narrowed in the dim light like Amarek’s had been during his display. The slit in the center of his shadowed blue glowing and staring into her. It made her feel that her secrets were not locked as tight as his own.

The dream did not help. It left her groggy and edgy as the domicile began to wake. Her bunkmate stepped on her hand as she climbed to the floor. Cora’s squeak of protest only served to make the woman worry over her. Cora rose, and the dream was replaced by the task of assuring her that she was not actually harmed in any way. She dressed and put her old clothes in the bin. It was Liiva’s rotation for domicile tasks today. Tomorrow it would be hers. Another thing the angara did differently. Communal housing meant task sharing. There wasn’t any focusing on one thing. There was always a place and a job that could be occupied whether you had to switch or not.

She had been given a teacher’s rofjinn – the only distinction between her and the others in the classroom. She had told the Moshae that it was not appropriate attire for combat, but it had been pressed to her anyway.

“Remember your time here fondly,” she had said in that quiet assured way that made her hard to argue with.

So she wore the rofjinn on the way to class wishing to keep in functional and grateful for the lack of chill the dew heavy morning air brought with it. Evfra’s window was still closed she noticed as she passed underneath it. A stray thought wondered if he had gone to bed after the strange scene. She hung the rofjinn in the women’s showers on a hook and left her change of clothes. She liked the training room like this. The trainees were slowly arriving stretching and yawning letting their canines protrude this time not in a way that asked dangerous questions. She was free to look and watch. She wondered why the sight of the teeth made her shiver. Was she prey? A bump on her shoulder startled her, and though she could not sense it in his field, she could see a hint of displeasure in Amarek’s brow.

“Did you sleep well?”

She grunted at the inquiry not answering in full. He nodded and stayed at her side for a beat his eyes staying on the other yawning trainee before the distaste flashed from his face, and he moved to join the others behind her for stretches. She sighed with relief. It was not something that she wanted to spend too much times thinking about today. When she pulled up, stretching her shoulders, she turned to face the trainees slowly scanning the faces and meeting each set of eyes, although hers lingered little on Amarek’s. There were many that were new and many missing. The bioelectric specialists were free to attend her courses or another’s so long as they attended. The only required attendees were those personally instructed by the Moshae which was more an honor than a choice. Communal life would scoff at one who threw away a gift or a talent. She had seen it done to a man down her hall. It was whispered that he had been selected for a mechanic based on his intense interest and aptitude. After the selection, he lost interest in it. After a week of the silence, he voluntarily elected to go to Voeld. There were many guesses as to why this had occurred: a lover had been moved, he had grown bored, his instructor and he had quarreled. Cora had her own theories on the subject, but she had found the lover situation closer to the truth. She had seen him hide cakes at dinner a few times and lingering at the garden on her way home from the tavetaan. Coincidentally, the mechanic master’s young daughter often had the cake crumbs on her shirt. She thought the lover was younger than he, and when it was found, he was moved for propriety’s sake. The lack of interest in his selection was more due to sadness than anything else. Not that she knew any of this for certain. Besides after last night, she had begun to question all assumptions she had made.

She ran through several biotics exercises before asking her recruits to demonstrate them. Shapes were her focus right now. The angara could project much better than she, but they had never tried to control the energy flow. It shot away in uneven surges rather than being kept tightly under control. Amarek smiled at her as she walked past and nodded at his orb. The man was working hard and sweat beaded his forehead. She busied herself in the others as she tried to balance her load. Others were gifted. A woman in her twenties was shaping other shapes: triangles and hexagons. She could not disconnect the field completely from her body. When Cora asked her to try, she only looked at her incredulously.

“It would be cold,” she said, and Cora didn’t know how to respond to that.

Another had difficulties projecting his shapes in three dimensions. And so the problems went. She went to each trying to smooth the edges or make the edges appear depending on the situation. While they were not the Moshae’s students, they were gifted and hers. She had good teachers and tried to dole out the discipline in equal measures of assurance and praise. She had never sent one home even though the student biting his tongue in the third row had been here daily, since she had started and had yet to even kindle a field away from his body. With each defeat, he seemed to become heavier. Even Cora could feel the despair seeping through him.

She was trying to work with him when the door opened behind her. She didn’t turn to look. She simply kept trying to offer the strangled encouragement that she could.

“Yedo.”

“He’s busy,” she snapped taking the anger out on the new target rather than the young man.

“He has missed his assignment with the chemistry master.”

“Chemistry master,” she asked incredulously looking up at the man who had gone rigid and stiff wearing a look of a child who had been caught with something he knew he shouldn’t have.

“Sir, I am researching, sir,” Yedo barked.

Cora turned to see Evfra standing with his hands behind his back. His eyes met hers, and she thought that she saw a flash of surprise across his face before his stern demeanor reclaimed him.

“You have not explained that to your master.”

Yedo’s eyes drew together in a frown. “I have, sir. It was deemed unimportant.”

“I hear that you are not particularly gifted in bioelectrics. Would you agree?”

Cora’s brain held one part annoyance that she had not been named and one part anger that he would try to bring her into this. She looked at Yedo and then at Amarek. Neither had been that gifted, but with work, one had improved. The other had not. Yedo’s hands clinched by his sides.

“Are you hard of hearing?” Evfra’s growled question brought her back, and her anger took the better more reserved part of her mind.

“With work, he will become skilled,” she replied pertly.

Evfra’s eyes opened a bit at the unusual challenge to his authority, but he knew the codes of the angara much better than she and to refute an instructor over the competency of a desired attribute went against the angaran method, so he chose a different route. He looked to Yedo.

“Your _human_ instructor seems to think you are competent. Your chemistry _master_ thinks you are a genius. Where do you think you would better serve your people?”

“Here, sir,” barked Yedo without hesitation, and Cora was fond of his mettle if nothing else. The scrawny chemist would-be bioelectric wonder could stand his ground against the unstoppable battle hardened general.

Evfra had apparently not expected this either. “Surely,” he replied after a pause, “if a student is so willing to learn, anyone worthy of the title of instructor could teach him successfully. Otherwise, they would not be a competent instructor.”

Cora felt her hair bristle at the arrogance and narrowed her eyes. The man wanted the _human_ off his planet. That was clear. It irked her that his arrogance was still so telling after all the species had accomplished together. He turned his eyes on her.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir.” The words ground from her teeth leaving a streak of defiance in her eyes.

“Very well. I expect to see him show me something impressive in say… two weeks? I believe the chemistry master would be sorely disadvantaged to not have him back by then.”

“He will be ready… sir.” She left the space purposefully to gain his ire, but his face showed nothing. He wasn’t angry nor proud of his clever challenge. He was impassive as always.

He nodded and left. The class collectively heaved a sigh of relief and worry ran through the room. Yedo looked at her in surprise, and she was angry at him for a moment. She was angry at herself for standing up for him even though he had not improved in the first week of being here. She didn’t see what sort of leaps and bounds he could make with two more of the same. If nothing else, she supposed that she could look forward to a private room in two weeks time.

“Why…?” Yedo’s eyes searched hers in confusion.

She shook her head at him and breathed out her nose. “Because you have been here every day trying.”

“But I’ve done nothing.” The bitterness in his voice felt solid.

She shrugged. She wouldn’t fill the boy with false hope. “Isn’t that what angara do? Teach those who want to learn.”

“Well, yes. Until there is a preferred aptitude. They have set my course.”

“Do you want to be here,” she asked seriously. A part of her hoped the man would simply say no, and she could walk on the next shuttle off the planet.

“Yes,” he replied with a firm nod.

“Then I will teach you,” she said simply. “You will be here late and early, yes?”

He nodded, and her gaze slid from his face to catch Amarek staring at her with his arms crossed over his chest. She had thought that she would see disapproval on them. She thought that maybe her standing up for Yedo would incite jealousy and an unease in his advances, but he smiled at her when she caught his eye. She still wasn’t certain what she wanted to do with it yet, so she broke the class for lunch and walked to the tavetaan. When she arrived, she looked to her seat, and he was there. She stopped and glared. She couldn’t help it. The man wanted her gone, but he couldn’t order her. She wanted to be gone, but she couldn’t leave without abandoning a mission.

His head twitched, and his eyes rose from his datapad to meet hers. She crossed her arms refusing to break the gaze. A slight smile touched his lips, and he raised his coffee cup as if to toast her, but she knew it was to toast her untimely departure rather than the mission’s full three months. And in that moment, she knew his coffee was black. It was the same color as his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

The cool morning breeze sent a shiver down her skin. One of her bunkmates had opened the window in the middle of the night. Angara seemed to have a warmth that circulated around them. She surmised that it had something to do with the electricity sparking in their field - electrons racing back and forth and colliding with one another. It kept them warm and her cold. She pulled her comforter over her head and snuggled in the coarse standard issue blanket that was far from what one would call comfort. Making certain that everyone had enough to go around ensured that nobody lived in comfort. Even the Asari had seen fit to provide comfortable bed rolls to their soldiers. Of course, they also decorated their ships occasionally letting little touches of motherhood shine through.

Cora sat upright with a sigh letting her shoulders slump forward and the blanket fall. She had an early morning coming even with the extra hour that the glowing timepiece was registering above the door mantle. The angara had no clocks such as Milky Way residents. The bioluminescent flora of Havarl had been used to infuse materials that gave off the unnatural glow of the home planet. Cora found it a bit comforting. It reminded her of the Asari. She was a bit grateful that she kept being stuck with blue aliens. Her life had to have some sort of continuity. She felt the hair stand up on her arms and shivered once more. The padded soles of her feet scraped the hard cement floor with barely a sound. She wanted this small moment of peace, so she stayed quiet as she dressed and pushed the door shut with nary a click.

The Havarl morning was foggy. White blanketed the courtyard of the domicile, and she breathed hot air into her hands. The rolfjinn was a blessing in these conditions. Nobody was outside yet. The kitchen duty staff had left earlier to begin the communal meal preparation, and the soldiers were trying not to let go of the last threads of sleep. The morning was hers but not for long. The moon was still up now, but the light of dawn was already inching over the jungle canopy. She picked her way to the dining hall enjoying the silence.

She was not the first in the hall. Several angaran soldiers - the elderly gossiping type in particular - were sitting near the kitchen staff talking in the loud way of the nearly deaf. She seated herself as far away as possible holding a coffee to warm her hands more than anything else. She was still uncertain about the food served here, but she didn't ask either. Soldiers were grateful to get food, and it wasn't as if the angara would make anything special for her. They all ate the same thing. If there were many tubers, they ate tubers. If there was not enough meat to go around, nobody ate meat. If you didn't like it, then you starved. A part of her admired this, but the part of her that would kill for a piece of chocolate was very put out indeed.

She spooned the purple tubers in her mouth and picked at a piece of what she assumed was a fish due to the flakiness of the meat. It was good even if it was plain. A tray slid across the table in front of her. She looked up to see Amarek yawning. His eyes were a little purple around the edges and the slitted irises seemed to be bigger than normal. A part of her wondered if he had indulged in some sort of fun last night. The society around him certainly wouldn't frown on it as long as he was present for his morning duties. He didn't speak. He only continued to eat letting the silence fall without expectation over the two of them. It made the unease shift within her bones to a warm sort of comfort in finding her footing here. Whether Amarek considered her a prospect or not, he was always warm and attentive to the small things such as her dislike of morning conversations. She wondered when he had noticed it. She wondered what went on in the warrior's head. Stories and assumptions were much harder to be objective about the closer they came to home.

"Teacher." The voice was hesitant, and the young angara was a dark shade of green that bloomed all through his collar. She could feel the nervousness and uncertainty washing over her. "I planned to be early," he added shifting his feet as if she required explanation of him.

"Be seated, Yedo," replied Amarek nodding to the empty air beside him.

"Um, yes, thank you."

Cora watched the boy shovel the tubers into his mouth as if it being full would preclude him from speaking any further. She sipped the warm coffee and wondered what his story was. What made Yedo desire to learn about biotics rather than the gifts that had already been bestowed upon him? Perhaps she stared too long or too intently as Amarek's hand reached across the table brushing her tray and dragging her gaze away.

"I can take it if you are finished."

She felt the pink burn in her cheeks run down her neck. "Yes. Thank you."

"It is no trouble." Cora thought that a human would wink at this time, but his cat eyes held her gaze - steady and unblinking - until she looked away and back to Yedo. Amarek took the trays to the counter, and she could see him bantering with the old men and the staff in the same easy way that Amarek diffused any situation. She envied that skill.

"I'm glad you are up early."

The boy gulped the meat on his tray down without hardly swallowing. "You had said that I should be there early and late."

She lifted her chin not wanting to seem weak or conspiratorial. She had learned the angaran definition of a secret was simply something new to gossip to one's friends. "Why would you want to do this? You are displeasing the General and apparently already have an apprenticeship in a field that you are very talented in. Isn't this making your life unnecessarily harder?"

Yedo paled visibly at the mention of the general. "They think this is irrelevant. I do not believe so. I am a scientist. I do not understand how the integration of disciplines can weaken my craft. It will strengthen it."

She almost wanted to tell the boy to look elsewhere. Weren't there other disciplines that would complement chemistry better than the new and improved Milky Way version of biotics? Surely, his time was already more valuable elsewhere. But she held her tongue and took another drink of her coffee draining the last drop. Amarek slid into the seat beside her and held another steaming mug in front of her.

"You were empty," he explained as she took the coffee. He didn't offer a smile or a comment leaving her feeling grateful without an output and turned to Yedo. "The chemistry master stopped at the domicile the night before. He asked about you. I believe saying that he was angered at your refusal to uphold your duty would be an understatement. Do you believe this knowledge will make the community better prepared?"

The boy swallowed and looked away in shame. "It is not the knowledge but the understanding. He does not understand what it means to practice a craft."

Cora raised an eyebrow. "He is a chemist."

"Yes, I suppose he is."

The bitter note in the young man's tone left her a little speechless and perplexed. Venom was often not apparent in angaran fields. She knew that Amarek felt it too. He stiffened, and his arm brushed against her own. It was warm. The cold that had chilled her nightly would be much eased by the warmth in that touch, but she chased the thought from her mind with a rush of the last of the caffeine.

"We need to meet that deadline." She stood taking her cup with her. She knew if she left it alone for a moment Amarek would be there cleaning up her mess. "I am heading to the training field." She tried not to meet Amarek's gaze instead focusing on Yedo's nod although she couldn't help seeing his grin in her peripheral vision as she exited the cafeteria. Maybe it was the lazy increase in temperature that Aya had or her brisk walk, but she was sweating when she arrived at the Resistance center. She looked up to see the General's window shut and steamed to a degree that she couldn't see inside. She wondered if he was there, and she wondered what he would do if she succeeded. She wanted to see the latter very much.

The locker room was empty as she had expected. She hung her rolfjinn and entered the training area. She began stretching. Yedo and Amarek joined her after a few minutes and fell silently into a row behind her mirroring her moves. She could see them in the mirror in the front of the room. Amarek's face was calm and collected. The lines around his eyes not taking anything away from his handsome features. It showed his joy at living. It was something Cora could do with having in her life. Asari are wonderful, but they are also wearisome. Life is always a journey that does not end and does not contain rest. At least, rest during her short life span would be unthinkable. Amarek had the eyes of someone who laughed and loved and the demeanor of one who could be depended upon. Yedo contrasted his younger features nearly exactly. The young angara had creases in his forehead from concentrating. He was a serious boy despite the lack of years. She dearly hoped that same seriousness would allow him to succeed.

She stood and turned to Yedo. "Project your field." The first exercise was simple to an Asari - a mere 'stretch' of field. The crease between his eyebrows appeared, and she felt the wash of field. It was sharp and lukewarm as it pressed against her bioelectrics and blanketed her. This was not where the problem arose for Yedo.

"Form it into a sphere."

She felt it retract and could vaguely see the crackle form a bubble around him. The circle pulsed. It looked like mist and was barely visible. She turned to Amarek. "Project."

He did it flawlessly and easy. She felt his calm demeanor edged with that ferocity and protectiveness edge over her and obliterate all her senses. She swallowed and coughed out her next instruction. Amarek's mouth pulled up at the corner as he created a circle that was more substantial. The same green as his skin tinted the misty ball that he held between his hands. A thin tendril snaked from the base of the orb to his wrist connecting him to it just barely. It was not perfect, but it was still far from Yedo's ability. She swiped at the tendril cleaving it, and the orb winked out of existence. Amarek blinked his wide cat eyes at her startled.

"Yedo," she started slowly, "can you bring it away from you? The sphere."

He planted himself and summoned the bubble encircling him once more and edged the farthest point away from his body, but he remained in contact with it all the same. He pushed further, and when only a few inches were connecting the mist to his chest, the mist dissolved. He let out a long held breath and looked up at her sheepishly. Beads of sweat had broken out in the ridges of his collar, and his arms dropped to his side.

"Try something smaller." She opened her hand and let a small orb of flashing brilliance spin on her palm. It was only about the length of her palm, but she hoped it would take less concentration than the full body projection to which the angara were so easily attuned. Their emotions were projected and raw. These overbearing washes were generally easy to feel and easily felt. Small tended to be more difficult, whereas it was where she had started. The others in the class had not seemed to struggle with this, but maybe Yedo was different.

He watched the orb on her palm and tentatively spread his palm beside her own. The crackle of energy was not seen but felt between them. Her orb wobbled, and the hum thrummed across her skin as he concentrated not taking his eyes off her orb. The energy grew. Her orb began rippling in waves as if Yedo's field was stroking it. She gritted her teeth. She wanted to give pointers and insight, but she didn't want to burden her pupil by offering advice out of turn. Suddenly, her orb burst, and the electricity raced through her hand and up her arm causing her to yelp. It was not dignified in the least and more embarrassed than hurt, though Amarek tugged her arm away from Yedo who was staring in horror at her.

"Sorry," he stammered and seemed to shrink into himself.

"It's nothing," she replied sharply as she snatched her arm from Amarek's grasp. "I was just surprised."

"Sorry." The word was barely audible as she shook her arm trying to get some feeling back into it. She didn't need his apologies, and she didn't need to be fussed over.

"I'm fine. Really." She glared at Amarek who had crossed his arms and was staring down at her through slitted eyes. It was the most threatening she had seen him be in all the time they had been together. "I think that should be your first task. You are making the sphere - although not very solidly. I want you to concentrate on moving your field to different parts of your body. You can surround it. Move your field from your foot to your hand and back again."

"How do I shrink it?"

Cora pursed her lips. She didn't know how to describe it to him. It had been all she could do in the beginning to project the small field. She couldn't imagine projecting one to surround her body on a first try. How does one work backwards? She reached toward Yedo's palm taking the back of his hand in her left and traced a circle on it with her right. "Make this stand up."

He swallowed and nodded not meeting her eyes as her hands fell away. She hoped it worked. Angara thrived on feelings to create their energy. Hopefully, the sense of touch would be as powerful as the emotions. She felt a hand take her own and turn it over. Red had splintered across it where the electricity had touched it. Amarek had his lips pressed into a thin line as he examined it. She tugged.

"I'm fine."

"It should be checked." He nodded toward Yedo. "He has his task. It is fine."

She looked into his big soulful eyes and back to Yedo. She knew her cheeks were pink and could feel the concern in his field intently directed at her. "Okay." This time when she tugged her arm away, he released her. Amarek walked to the door and opened it standing firmly beside it - a gentleman. She looked to Yedo who seemed calm and collected if a little winded and back to Amarek. Straightening her shoulders and pulling her chin unnaturally high she exited the room all too keen of Amarek's warmth and the shush of the door sliding closed behind them.

The clinic was not exactly full. Several patients dozed in beds and two nurses on staff fluttered around them checking panels and dials without waking the sleeping angara. She waited to be noticed and observed them. She felt Amarek's field expand in impatience, and a nurse looked up and locked eyes with her. The woman was slight - if an angara could be considered slight with the significantly more wiry muscle than humans - and a soft shade of blue. Her eyes flicked to Amarek and back to her patient before striding over to meet them.

Amarek's warm fingers gently closed over her hand and presented it to the nurse. "A shock."

She took the hand and pursed her lips together. "Come. Sit."

Cora sat and watched the nurse fill a small tub with water and roll the tub and cart over to the bench. She held her hand out expectantly, so Cora gave it to her watching as the nurse dipped the cup into the water and began to pour it over the burn. Cora grimaced a bit. The temperature was neither high or low - as she could feel on the surrounding skin - but the burned area was sensitive. Immediately, she felt the touch of a field. She looked up at the nurse who showed no sign of interest and simply continued to pour and inspect. She reached in a lower tier of the cart and found a gauze bandage which she began to wrap around the hand expertly. Cora supposed that this was probably a common occurrence in a species so dependent on biotics. The nurse looked up and offered a soft smile.

"No adhesives or gels."

Cora nodded still intrigued by the subconscious comfort of the nurse. She wondered if this same force could be used in assisting with healing in the other patients and not simply the gentle wash of calm that she had experienced. The nurse rolled the table back and smiled again.

"Return if it worsens."

Cora returned the smile and looked to Amarek who was still standing his post by the door. A soldier had joined him, and a whispered conversation ensued. Amarek's easy smile had changed by greater and greater degrees to a face of concern. Lines began to deepen in his chin and forehead. His brows lowered. This sight made Cora nervous. She was used to the calm presence that seemed to come naturally to him, and this character concerned her. His eyes found hers, and his hunched shoulders straightened. The effect was sudden and precise. He changed to Amarek she had come to know once again. As she walked closer, she would notice a line there or a stiffness here that told another story.

"Teacher Harper." The other angara held his fist in greeting, and she met it bumping her forearm to his. "Amarek is quite fond of you. Your teachings are spoken of highly in the Resistance. We are honored that you have come."

"I am glad to be here," she answered wondering whether she was actually glad or not. The General's challenge still lingered in her mind nagging at her. "You can join if you like."

The angara laughed deeply and carelessly in the way that they do. "I am under a Master presently. It would not do to skip his teachings. Some may, but it is not wise. You should think on that as well, Teacher Harper. The whole can do without a useless part, but callings make one essential to the whole."

She frowned. She knew that the angara would have spread it quicker than humans may, but Yedo's scandal bothered her more when faced with the ordinary man depending on his brother than the overbearing General whom she privately thought of as an ass.

"It is the individual who determines his usefulness to our family." Amarek stepped in once more to her defense.

"Not everyone is you, brother," the angara responded with a grin, and Amarek frowned.

Cora felt a sharp prick and followed the men's swiveled heads to see the nurse glaring at them and holding a finger to her lips. Hospitals and libraries were still the same in angaran culture. It was somewhat of a relief to Cora. The angaran man winked at her and leaned in conspiratorially.

"Don't let Amarek dissuade you from our true cause. Oneness is something those of Havarl do not understand. I may join your teachings yet."

The man leaned away and walked to the nurse promptly getting into a friendly scolding over his robust nature. She looked at Amarek whose lips were pressed into a firm thin line as he watched the man. Cora had not seen any dissent between the angara until now. Everything was shared. All was family. One was all, and all were one. But the man's words had left her wondering about the rightness of this outward appearance. Amarek looked at her briefly before turning stiffly to exit the infirmary. After the door shut firmly behind him, he spoke.

"Do not let his words trouble you. We are all angara. After all, it means people, does it not? You will forgive me if I attend to other matters?"

Cora nodded. "Amarek, - "

He brushed her hand and made a show of inspecting the bandage. "All will be well with Yedo. He is bright and will learn brilliantly from one such as you."

With a small smile and a slow feline blink, he dropped her hand and continued on his way. She wasn't certain what she was seeing. Did the Pathfinder know of this dissent between the angara? Had Jaal? Or was this realization a consequence of her embedded envoy? It was uncertain in her mind, but she was prepared to uncover what she could. When she opened the door to the training room, Yedo sat in the middle of the room with his legs tucked underneath him. The bioluminescent light slowly traveled in spider silk thin tendrils from foot to heart to finger and back. A smile spread across her face. He had the potential. She was certain.

Yedo exhaled slowly relaxing, and his eyes floated lazily open seeing nothing and everything at once. Slowly, his large eyes blinked and locked onto her own. An answering smile graced his face uninhibited by the Milky Way notions of shyness and modesty. She felt his field wash over her in a gleeful wave.

"Well done, Yedo."

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Thanks, Teacher."

"I believe that you have accomplished your task for today." The thought of the angara's speech about one relating to the whole crossed her mind and dampened her mood. "Perhaps we can split today between this training and your Master."

Yedo's smile disappeared and turned immediately to brooding silence. "I must gain more before returning. You do not understand, Teacher Cora."

 _You are not angara._ He may have not added it, but she could hear it anyway. She was the alien. He was the native, and the rush of success at seeing her student learn was dampened. "It is your choice," she added.

"It has always been. I will practice a bit more before I go."

Cora nodded hating how out of place she felt. When she thought of this planet as familiar, factions unnoticed before and the words of her student had sent her back to reality. She was familiar with the Milky Way but not Andromeda. It left her feeling as if she had a phantom limb that painfully reminded her of its loss. She opened her locker and ran her hand over the rolfjinn. The coarse wooly material ran through her hand over her callouses and scars, and all she could think was that it was not truly hers. Nothing was hers anymore. The Initiative may not have taken One-ness to the extreme of the angara, but they were for the Milky Way races as a whole and less as a singularity. Her life was the Initiative's, and it was hers. She shut the door leaving the rolfjinn hanging not being able to bear wearing it at this time. The Ayan sun warmed her as she strode to the tavetaan, and she tried to lose herself in the mindless chatter to avoid the dangerous thoughts of loss and sentimentality. He sat at her table - the scarred general. She glanced at his window and caught the Moshae eyeing the general with a frown on her face. She wiped her brow and shook her head before disappearing from view. Cora watched the general's shoulders relax, and a sigh escape him. For a moment, she thought that there was something familiar in that relief.

He looked up from his datapad and met her gaze. His face was not soft nor hard - simply relaxed, until he caught her eye. A frown creased his brow, and he promptly went back to ignoring her. His shoulders bunched, and his arms flexed. Tension seemed to run back into him as easily as air, and she wondered if the real miracle was that it ever left. Surely he had a story to tell. She took a seat near the entrance with her back to the passing crowd. It was this way that she watched him as he pretended to not be aware of her. She watched the trio of angaran friends play a card game introduced to them by a human man. They were notoriously bad at it on account of their fields. Which angara had a good or a bad hand passed freely between the trio leaving the human with the only sense of subtlety. She watched the pretty young woman smile winningly and cozy up to the bartender. He was working, but she knew when his shift change was, and they both knew where the shared bunks were. But all the while, she watched the general as he precisely ate each bite - cut, chew, swallow, and never out of order - and sipped the coffee that steamed even in the light heat of the afternoon. She watched him harden farther when angaran fields contacted him and slowly soften as they disappeared. She knew he had lost his family, but that was all that was ever said. What made the man this touchy and this precise? She didn't want to admit it, but a part of her wanted desperately to know, to understand, and to engage.

He stood leaving his discarded dishes and walked toward her table. She doubted he would stop. She was sitting by the exit after all. He could not leave without passing her. She fully expected him to stride by without so much as a falter in his step or a peripheral glance, but he surprised her. He did not look at her but stopped staring straight ahead.

"Teacher Harper," he intoned in his deep voice. "I trust you have been accomplishing more than the _necessary_ amount of training, since we had last spoke."

It wasn't an obvious question, but she knew he was waiting for an answer. She sat deliberately silent and sipped at her own coffee - which was iced like any normal being in the heat - until his eyes flicked at her recognizing her. She would train him to look at her when she spoke. She tilted her head and took her time. She had not liked the way he had said 'necessary' and was not quite ready to make amends.

"No more necessary than your own work, General."

She kept it civil - no inflection and a flat voice. She would get her way, but she would not stoop so low at this minor insult. He stared at her now, and his lips pressed flat. A silent tension expanded between them, but she detected no field - only empty air. His eyes snapped back to his earlier course.

"Carry on then."

With that, he was gone and striding to his office. She hid her smile behind a long drink of her coffee. It would be another hour before she left. She enjoyed her meal - letting the food and the good weather wash away the earlier feeling of alien-ness. Her small exchange stayed with her throughout the meal and served to boost her attitude. It also stayed with him, and unbeknownst to Cora, he hovered by his window a bit each time he passed unconsciously checking to see if the loathsome woman had left. When she had, it was not a sigh of relief that greeted him but an itching.

"Necessary," he grumbled under his breath and turned his mind back to work.


	3. Chapter 3

Yedo's earlier success had seemed to be more of a miracle than anything else in the other two sessions that day. Cora had hopes that he would excel further that day or at the very least keep what he attained, but it was not to be. In the common session, Yedo shocked the student next to him. Amarek took the girl to the infirmary, while she continued the class. She hadn't wanted to separate Yedo from the group to prevent another shock and thereby alienate him further. The serious boy had enough self-inflicted guilt to render him clumsy and incapable for the rest of the night and took a place on the edge flinching away when anyone came near to him. The private session was not much better. Amarek did not return, and Cora found herself wishing for that calm emotional field he always projected. She was strained after the two-hour group class had hounded her with thoughts of another misfortune being caused by her inept student and by extension inept teacher.

Yedo was sweating, and his eyes were wide and white as he looked at her in abject horror. She couldn't take her frustrations out on the boy like that, and she knew that she was just as useless as him at this point. She started to put a hand on him, but the sight of her bandage made her think better of it. The last thing she needed to do was startle him.

"Yedo," she said trying to put as much of a soothing tone as she could in the name. "Let's stop for now."

"I can't. You have a week to train me, Teacher Cora. The hours must have value."

Cora eyed him and let the wheels turn. The Asari had always been fond of barely understood parables, but to the angara, truth was not only king but the only option. She put her words in order.

"You have value. The hours are here to enrich you, and the best way to spend them at the moment is not trying fruitlessly to cultivate a new understanding while under duress."

He searched her face for a moment, and she thought privately that it may have been the wrong thing to say. But he sighed, and the truth was king. She had tried not to tense under his gaze, but she felt herself relax a bit in conjunction with him.

"It is true, Teacher. I am frustrated by your words and by my failure. Yet I do not want to go back to the domicile. In here - while I am working - I am still useful."

She hadn't thought of that before. Every angara lived in the domicile - even the Moshae and the general. She was accepted more than necessary, but it would be quite a shock to the young man to lose that inherent acceptance. She wondered if the bunks nearest him were suddenly empty. She supposed he could selfishly claim a shared room on his own, but it would be only another blow to his reputation. A selfish angara would be dichotomous to togetherness. Whereas if his disobedience bore fruit, acceptance would be more than imminent. Briefly, she wondered if the opposite was also true. Would Yedo be just as likely to face avoidance as a high-ranking officer in the familial halls? Do the general and the Moshae sleep alone? She supposed they may be sought for companions in the shared rooms, but she couldn't imagine either ever accepting the offer. The Moshae was old and reserved. She would laugh the advance away. The general would make the proposition whither on the speaker's lips. In a way, the inability of even the high-ranking to obtain the privacy she so desired gave her a small amount of comfort.

"Sit," she instructed crossing her legs and facing Yedo. He neatly tucked his feet under him in a way that any human would be loath to imitate. She held out her hands. Yedo visibly flinched at the bandage but tenderly placed his hands in hers. The weight was significantly less on the injury. She could feel his skin humming with unease. She squeezed his hands and met his unblinking gaze. The slits in his eyes were thin and alert.

"Breathe." She refused to let her eyes wander from his, but she had to blink more often than him. Biology dictated it. With each intake, she squeezed his fingers gingerly and released with each exhale promoting a steady and deep rhythm. Her teachers often did this with her during training, although it was not from guilt but anger that she suffered. When the hum of his skin died and was replaced by the warm touch of another being, she released him.

"A clear mind is often the precursor to progress." It was another phrase her teachers had uttered to her more times than she could remember. She watched his shoulders sag further. "Go enjoy yourself this evening. Life is not only enslavement to your brethren."

His lips pressed into a line, and she wondered if she had gone too far. "It is not taught that way."

Cora thought for a moment about back tracking, but she would tell the truth here. The angara had many things correct but not all. "If you want to contribute, build yourself wisely. This includes knowing when you should rest. A whole man can find a place, but a partial man drifts."

Yedo's eyes flicked over her studying and contemplating. There was a lot in this boy that understood far more than others of his same age. She had seen human teens and young adults follow blindly what their peers had taught without question. This young man would not be one to disappear into anonymity. He thought too much if a bit emotionally, but she hoped he would come to experience the world through an individual lens rather than a collective consciousness.

"... I will do so, Teacher." He stood and looked down at her starting to say something then thinking better of it. "The domicile will not be so punishing today... I believe."

Cora smiled as she watched him leave. She thought perhaps the other angara would be appalled at her call to individuality, but Andromeda was now home to them and their allies. This culture would have to come to terms with the differences between them sooner rather than later. The war ensured that. She entered the locker room and looked at her rolfjinn hanging forlornly. Perhaps it was fate that she was the alien sent. She wondered if any other team member would have done more or done better. The Pathfinder, Liam, or perhaps Peebee would not have fit as well as she. Ryder had other matters to attend. Liam was not as well versed. Peebee would have shirked. Maybe this was how destiny worked. You simply fit. She put the rolfjinn over her head and fingered the material. A part of her wished for a mirror. She hadn't seen how she looked since she had last braved the communal baths. Mirrors were another commodity that was deemed unnecessary by angaran standards, and she was not entirely comfortable with the open stares of curiosity directed at her. It was late though - nearly dinner. She knew the baths would be close to empty soon.

An evening run was in order. Besides she had had little time to explore the parts of Aya unrelated to her daily duties. She was getting weak from the disproportionate mental and physical demand. Perhaps it was time to rectify that. She began a light jog as she left the Resistance headquarters. The evening was cooling. The humidity change made condensation begin to form on all the Ayan surfaces, and a fog could be seen rolling in from the jungle treetops. She wondered if Ayan cities had always been historically this high above the trees. It had been one of the later settled planets, so the structures could have begun tall and simply remained that way. She had not seen much of the Havarlan structures as the sacred planet had remained closed far longer than the Ayan military base. Perhaps on Havarl the buildings had always been this tall in order to see further in the murky eternal twilight – a twilight that furiatingly enough the angara had several words to break-up the monotony. At this hour, it would be call ‘sumana’ loosely meaning first lack of light. She still couldn’t tell the small degrees by which light decreased, while the angara knew it by instinct. Recent Havarl recruits loudly complained about the long ‘anama’ hour – meaning all light. This word for day had been a fairly new word and only invented after extraterrestrial colonization. Milky Way translation algorithms had a terrible time keeping up with the time vocabulary. Of course, she assumed the angaran translation packs had a difficult time explaining ‘afternoon’ in a timely manner. Lag between translation was still a problem at times, but it became easier with each day. SAM frequently interfaced with the remote update AI to give it a boost in the learning process. Night time hours were nearly as bad as weather. Milky Way species would call this a ‘night with fog’, but the angara would condense this whole moment down to one word. Cora did admire the succinct nature of their language. It left little room for areas of confusion in these areas. She wondered if it would stay – merging into the other translators giving the Andromedan residents a more definitive language. It would be interesting to hear an Asari speak of ‘summa’ and an angara comment on ‘afternoon’. She doubted this though as the natural evolution of language tended to a more simplified structure rather than complex. It may happen though, and she happily found the possibilities endless as she jogged through the streets of Aya.

There were vendors setting up their shops which she had come to realize was much more normal for a nocturnal species than her own. It was still curious. Daylight hours were not natural for the angara, but they had adjusted with settling the planet. Aya was vibrant and bright, so its inhabitants had to cope with its ferocious beauty and fast-paced evolution in the sunlight and abundant water, but the angara did not go complacently into the bright day. They still held the night captive. Bioluminescent bulbs hung from stalls, and delicious smells rose into the air from street vendors. Money had become a relic of Havarl until the Milky Way had entered, and the soldiers had begun learning to spend the coin that they had previously regarded as trinkets. The Ayan angara were much more adept at it from what Cora had observed, and she wondered why that might be.

She slowed to a stop and looked enviously at the angara across the street drinking from a state fountain. Her water had to have sanitization and vitamin packs. Aya was rich, but some minerals were not present that humans in particular needed as well as the fear of parasites that the angara had learned how to deal with centuries earlier. The Asari had to prescribe her as much in her time there, but they all took supplements. Angara were not as keen on vitamin usage. Sweat ran down her neck as she breathed heavily, and she sat on a stone bench in the quiet dusk feeling the blood pumping through her so hard that she could hear it in her ears. The soft blue and yellow lights swayed in the humid breeze that poured from the east. She could smell rain.

An angaran woman milled near the entrance to the domicile of shared rooms. Cora tried to watch without making eye contact. She didn’t want her interest to be construed as acceptance, but she was interested to see this courtship dance take place. The woman was obviously looking for a companion for the night. Her skin pulsed faintly. Cora wondered if it were some shimmer of field or perhaps an invitation being broadcast that her limited biotics could not sense at this distance. An angaran male passed, stopped, and turned making eye contact with the woman. It was almost as if he had been lost in thought before sensing the pull. The couple clearly gave each other a telling look. The man put his shoulders back and looked down on her – the natural curve in his spine straitening like a snake waiting to strike. The woman’s lips pulled into a slight curve, and she extended her fist. His forearm touched hers, and it seemed the pack was sealed. Cora was amazed at how easily this courtship had occurred. The traditional angaran greeting and the way they had looked at each other screamed of their strangeness to one another, but the meeting and pact had been sealed as easily and seamlessly as an impartial contract. This bothered her more than anything else. Amarek had stood beside her quietly suggesting and probing for perhaps a week now, and it bothered her that this interaction could have been completed so easily and with so little feeling involved. Perhaps she was a romantic at heart, but she wanted to be intimate in mind before climbing into anyone’s bed. She stared at the door frowning her disapproval.

As she sat, she noticed a familiar angara lean against the wall outside the shared rooms. It was the general, surprisingly. She had not expected such from him. His chin was still raised as he surveyed the crowd meticulously going over the persons present. She wondered for what he was searching. Was it the same as the previous woman – an unknown partner that was of no consequence or thought? Or was it someone specific? Did the general have a current partner – one to use the shared rooms with on a regular basis? What would an arrangement such as this be called? Commitment? Was her earlier impression incorrect? She wondered if that was true of soldiers. It had certainly been true for her. She had viewed every Asari relation platonically in order to simply keep her sanity amidst the sexual voyeurism of a human trainee. Others had certainly not kept their distance in that way. It had kept things simpler. She had supposed – usually justifiably – that her superiors would make the same choice. They would have uncomplicated marriages with citizens rather than military rendezvous. Relationships among combatants were more than frowned upon.

His eyes roamed over the individuals present working from the front of the crowd to the back – towards her. He lingered on a human woman inspecting an angaran fruit merchant’s wares. She wondered if it was her flame red hair that shined brighter for the dusk slowly falling. It was a color exotic to the fluorescent angara. He lingered over an angaran male loudly boasting to his companions - a soldier with a deep voice like gravel and a wide toothy smile. She watched the general’s mouth press into a thing line. Displeasure – but at what? The soldier’s antics or something else? His gaze slid to another woman – another angara. Her skin shone with a ripple of green, and she carried herself a little slumped and forlorn. She was obviously not a soldier in the traditional sense. Like all angara, Cora was certain she was useful somewhere, but the training regimen was not a physical one. His eyes flicked to another soldier and another and another until his gaze seemed to run a mental checkpoint over the unfolding crowd of angaran recruits spilling into the courtyard – more accustomed to the dark than the daylight. She thought that his intentions must be for a soldier after all. It was the only explanation that came to mind. Suddenly, the general’s gaze made it to the back of the crowd, and his gaze met her own. Cora started and sat straighter feeling her spine snap. The look was instantly electrifying her without the added intensity of a field. She could almost imagine the cold glass of his eyes staring into her very soul. His brow would pull down turning to a stare that neared a glare but only managed to hint at irritation. She knew her face was as shocked as she felt, but she would not move her gaze from his own. Whatever he was doing, a part of her wanted him to know that she was watching. She was the Initiative here, and she was always watching Aya – including him.

“Teacher Cora.”

The voice startled her, and she blinked turning. Amarek stood behind her with his brows raised in surprise. She watched his eyes flit to the shared rooms and back to her. She turned back scanning for the general only to find no trace that he had ever been loitering there. She knew how this must look to Amarek, and her face became hot. She doubted that anything so harsh as Milky Way shame would be directed towards her for what appeared to her to be an indiscretion. She cleared her throat and took another drink of her water bottle. The minerals left a grainy feeling in her throat making her cough. She wiped her face on her forearm hoping the redness would be perceived as a side effect of the exercise.

“Amarek.”

She didn’t look at him but felt him sit on the bench beside her. He leaned back, and she leaned forward perching her elbows on her knees not wanting to touch or be touched knowing that the sticky feel of her sweat would make the action that much more uncomfortable. They sat like that for a few moments. She was looking at the crowd, but all of her attention was attuned to Amarek – the speed of his breaths, the gentle heat falling from his body, and the buzz of his field in the air. She was so attuned that when he spoke she flinched.

“The woman with the capani – “ She followed his nod to see an angaran woman with a child strapped to her back and slung over her front in a myriad of straps and cloth. The woman was putting a selection of meats in a bag. “I miss that.”

Cora glanced at Amarek seeing his smile soft yet somehow still reach his eyes. She had been so caught in this mission and culture shock that she had never taken the time to ask Amarek about his past, but she wondered now what made that smile connect with the family in front of them. She looked back at the woman who had made her purchase and had now turned to the shared rooms walking briskly. Cora’s eyebrows shot upwards. She had not realized that a shared room meant something other than a place for sating carnal pleasures.

“Shared rooms,” he said drawing her eyes back to him. “Ganamana and shinamana.”

“I don’t understand.”

Amarek still didn’t look at her but frowned pursing his lips in a way that tugged at her heart a bit. It was still a struggle to understand the angara at times – especially with all the differing dialects – yet time was always taken for her when Amarek was concerned.

“Other words would be… loving rooms and soul rooms? Perhaps not soul yet not family either. It is something in between yet can be both. Perhaps another difference?”

Cora nodded and sat back feeling the cold bench press into her back and cool her somewhat.

“I do understand that,” Amarek murmured. “It is not as it was. I am still not certain that I like them on Aya.”

Cora was surprised. She had been to the museum and read the displays in a general sense looking for an overview of the people they would be sharing the galaxy with, but it seemed so distant. She couldn’t feel it in the same sense that she couldn’t feel the plight of a Neanderthal. It seemed so foreign when the present was so insistent. “Are they new,” she prompted.

His eyes turned to her then. “Fairly. They were common on Havarl for a time.”

“Can you rent them?”

Amarek let his wide slit eyes linger on her, and she felt like prey for a moment. “Do you wish to take one?”

Her cheeks flamed. “There is no need. I only need one bed, and the domicile is free.”

Amarek laughed. “The shared rooms are free – as is the domicile - and provide the privacy that you speak of. You need only take a companion for it to not seem selfish.”

She looked away and made a noncommittal noise. A companion was not an option at this point. She knew where this would lead. “But families can reserve a room?”

She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was smiling, because his field buzzed against her leg making the little hairs stand straighter with static. “And extended couplings, but it is still solely a room whether there are two or ten. Families are simply uncommon in the capital. It is a war after all.”

The thought seemed to sober him a little as the static subsided. “It is this lack of meaning that has led to this state of affairs.”

She wondered if he meant the circumstances of his people or the couples that filed into the shared rooms from the market. She wondered if it had always been this way. It seemed simple to think the angara had always been this homogenous group spread across multiple planets. Humans couldn’t do even that until other species had been introduced, and today some still saw themselves in the context of their home planets rather than the greater unity of _Homo sapiens_.

“Did you have a family,” she hedged. “Before Aya.”

Amarek hummed in his field. “No, I was lucky in that regard – of a sort.”

She waited a moment after his voice dimmed, but the words had stopped. He shifted leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees and bringing his body closer to hers. She shivered a bit at the bite of warmth emanating from him in the chilled evening air.

“You must understand. Havarl and Aya are not peaceful. My family was of Havarl. I was of Harvarl, but I chose Aya before the Kett. Havarl – It was not a place for freedom, and my family wished for a structure that I didn’t, and so I came here.” His face stretched taut, and he swallowed showing a flash of his canines. “But they have melded now – some parts I love and some I hate. But with the Kett - and the Initiative to some extent, it is unlikely to change again.”

Cora watched his face relax and felt the tension pull from his field for a few moments before she spoke. “I would like to hear what Aya was like before. If you care to.”

His wide eyes that could hold inhumanly still fixed on her for a moment making the heat rise to her cheeks. The way the angara could stare unblinking left her feeling out of sorts – heat rising and chills running up her spine. Humans always blinked. Humans tended to break their gaze. Angara didn’t, or perhaps Amarek didn’t. He simply stared always implying – rooting out the depths of her thoughts, and she would feel thoroughly dissected.

“One day, Techer Harper. In privacy.”

His words tangled and laced themselves with promises and meanings endearing and profane, and she shrank from the searching gaze behind her officer’s wall as she schooled her expression and body.

“I saw the general,” she commented trying to divert. “He shares a room here?”

Amarek looked to the shared rooms for a moment then blinked slowly back at her. “Yes, he does.”

Cora wasn’t certain whether she be more astonished at Amarek’s knowledge or the casual way he commented on it. She wanted to ask more. Perhaps Amarek knew with whom he shared it and for what reason – familial or profane. But his eyes remained on her watching and waiting expectantly. She knew he wanted her to ask. He wanted to delve into it, and she knew that he wanted to delve into it with her. It was because of this that she swallowed and remained silent letting Amarek watch and wait reading his field as she knew that he was reading hers. His hand brushed her own as he grasped her water bottle. His eyes asked, and she nodded.

She was beginning to notice when Amarek was intending to create a show – a deft hand, a slow blink, a steady gaze. His field would short, and a contact would be made. She knew, and yet she let him drink and watched the water run down his chin and throat. She watched his profile knowing this was what he had intended from the start – a display with a captivated observer. Despite herself, she was always captivated. He handed the bottle back to her with exactly one swallow left in the bottom, and she reached to take it feeling the rough pads of his fingers grazing her hands and the spark of his field. He watched her in his silent way waiting. She turned the cap over in her other hand worrying over it absently. She glanced to him before capping the bottle.

“I should go. It’s an early morning.” The excuse was half-hearted. A part of her wanted to accept the silent offer. She wanted the privacy of the shared room, but it came with an intimacy she wasn’t certain was wanted. It was a choice between mediocrity and extremity, and she liked safety.

“Sleep well.”

She nodded at him and stood to go trying to keep her jellied legs underneath her. The run to the market had winded her, and they had fallen asleep as she had sat. She felt his eyes follow her until she rounded the corner. She stood taking a deep breath smelling the Ayan air – a scent of wet and dirt. She wondered briefly what harm would have come from her acceptance and turned back to catch a glimpse of Amarek entering the shared rooms alone, and she wondered if he craved the privacy – the freedom – that she had longed to have back. Perhaps Amarek was not drawn to her as an oddity but in mimicry of something that the Kett had taken from him.


	4. Chapter 4

Cora woke up early again watching the bioluminescent clock’s steady blue pulse. She wondered a moment if it was alive. She could imagine the angara letting the bioluminescent lights manage themselves. It would probably be easier on all of them. She turned and looked across at the other bunks across the room. Liva was sleeping soundly. A wet spot was on her pillow where her mouth had fallen open. She was curled facing her. It was curious. Cora wondered if it was a soldier’s development. When she had first went to train with the Asari, she had always curled against the wall. Her commander broke that out of her. A soldier always keeps their back to the wall – asleep and awake. It was why she liked the seat at the tavetaan where she could watch everybody. Perhaps Liva had been broken of the same habit.

The window had been opened again, so she curled the blanket under her chin. She wished that she had left her rolfjinn on over her standard issue pajamas. Her arms were always colder than the rest of her. Liva’s bunkmate rolled and kicked the blankets off her. She wondered if this angara was the one that kept opening the window. She had been in the room more than once, but it was not an everyday occurrence. Liva seemed to have a rotation of acquaintances that moved through her bunk. It was probably due to her penchant for cleaning the domiciles as a task. She always volunteered and would switch shifts working extra hours to help anyone. Due to this, several angara had come to the room recently chatting pleasantly and exchanging duties with Liva. Cora wondered if the pleasantries were bribes in their way - a sort of friendship in exchange for escaping a routine duty.

Her feet slipped from underneath the blanket. She could feel the chill through the socks. Everything the angara had given her - even the rolfjinn which was the thickest material - was thin. She wondered if this was due to shortages or simply a planet-wide rationing system. She could see the angara in their practical rationing giving thick lush clothing to the recruits stationed on Voeld and leaving the rainforest planet and Havarl in need. It was simple pragmatism that characterized the angaran leadership so well. It was always a little too cold. Cora understood it, but she did not like it. She missed being able to scrape together bits and pieces from her salary to assuage a desire, but in this world, saving anything was not so much impossible as intolerable. In much the same way a single person to a room was seen was shameful, taking anything for a selfish pleasure - such as thick wool socks that could better suit a Voeld bound soldier - was unthinkable.

She had rationed amidst her soldiers when she had led, but it had ended during shore leave when one could go and stretch their individuality. It had always felt beyond wonderful, and the peace it brought upon the return to the mission was something that brought the team together in a well-oiled cohesion. A part of her wondered how long this would last.

She pulled her rolfjinn over her head and exited the dormitory trying not to wake anyone. The path to the kitchens was becoming ever more familiar. She entered, and the cooks looked at her - some with smiles and some with the weariness of doing a task in your sleep. She was happy to see bread this morning amongst all the things that had not transferred to this alien world. Yes, there was bread of a sort, but it was not the beautiful golden brown of wheat. It had the same bioluminescent colors as much of Havarl shared. She took two in her delight noticing the cook's frown a little too late. She couldn't put it back after touching it, so she simply walked to the table that she normally shared with Amarek and sat. Her cheeks were bright red at the faux pas. She picked up the bread intending to eat it first, but her stomach rebelled. A part of her was wearing thin between this mission, Yedo's inefficiency, and the culture shock. She enjoyed it here, but familiarity seemed to be slipping further away.

A tray slid along the table, and Yedo sat across from her. She saw his eyes flick from the rolls to her eyes, and her lips flattened into a straight line. She couldn't let this intimidate her so much. She had urged Yedo to take steps away from the way his species seemed to perceive their role in society, so she had to heed her own words despite the cook's whispered disapproval. She took a bite of the warm roll, and the soft buttery taste was tempered by the dryness in her mouth. She didn't enjoy it.

"Teacher Cora," he paused to break his own roll, and she could feel the hum of his field touch her jittering and jumping against her skin. "How do humans live alone?"

She was a bit caught off guard at the question. The young man had eyes only for his food, but she knew the inquiry was not something innocent. She recalled the previous conversation they had had with a little fear. Her words were meant to be encouraging and helpful, and she could only hope to give more of the same.

"It's hard at times, but we are never truly alone. We sleep alone - generally - but we eat and work together."

"Generally...?"

She thought about the communal showers and the domiciles. "Well bathe and sleep. It is usually only the closest connections that are around during those times." She paused. "I suppose it's rather like your shared rooms."

His head jerked up looking directly into her eyes. "Are we close?"

She was a little taken aback at how desperate he seemed. Color flashed on his cheeks turning them a shade of purple. He was a falling man reaching for a cliff's edge. A pang of fear invaded her heart as she realized this was her doing. She had allowed him to ostracize himself from his people and his friends - perhaps family as well. For a moment, she wondered if Evfra had been correct in dragging him back to his assigned place. It was certainly not how she would want to live, but she was not an angara. She considered dissuading him but couldn't bring the words to her lips. He was too vulnerable, and she was filled with what she could only assume was affection for his plight.

"We are close," she said gently. "But humans would place more... significance on sharing a room for the night."

His face fell, and he returned to his food. "I'm sorry, teacher. It was presumptuous."

She thought of Liva's nightly rotation. She had always chosen the same bed, but if the guests were any indication, assigned beds were highly irregular. "Perhaps you could choose a bed in my domicile...? Are you assigned?"

He brightened and waved a hand in front of his face with a bit more energy. "No! If it wouldn't be an issue for your bunkmates... Some people claim a bed, but it is never really theirs."

She should have known. Beds were also not owned - even temporarily. A thought occurred to her. "If you could claim a place in my domicile at any time, why did you ask?"

Yedo cocked his head at an angle. "I thought you used a shared room with Amarek. He acts as if he is coupling with you. Some angara do not care for a third companion. Others do. Amarek probably wouldn't. I doubt he even likes the housing."

Cora felt her cheeks flush. It would only be an angara who would worry more about dislodging someone than actually asking about sex. She shook her head to try to chase the thought away. It wouldn't serve her well to read too much into the mention, but she was intrigued about the last comment. Amarek had hinted at it the previous evening with his grave expression and tone as he spoke of the differences that had washed over Aya. She wanted to know. A part of her craved the knowledge. She glanced at Yedo as he sat humming through his field and stuffing the proper amount of rations into his mouth. Her offer had made him more content. She wondered if it would be enough. She leveled her voice and propped her elbow on the table hoping her interest didn't seep through her voice or posture.

"Why would he not like the housing?"

"He is a colonizer." Her preparation was unnecessary. Yedo didn't even glance at her as he answered - as if it were the simplest explanation that one could give.

"Colonizer?"

"Yeah," answered Yedo. "They - "

His gaze slipped behind her, and she blinked realizing the easy chatter between the cooks and the sleepy diners had turned to whispers. She turned to see a cook whispering to Amarek over the counter. Amarek's spine was stiff and curled into the predatory arch Cora had witnessed in the male lover from the previous night. Amarek and the cook both glanced her way. Amarek's gaze was a second late but sought her eyes. She paled. The cook's disapproval was evident in his face and his field. Amarek did not show any of the easy conversation that he had the previous morning. He didn't nod at the cook, but he reached to the tray and took one roll placing it firmly on his tray. Cora knew what the tension was about now. He was being shamed the same way that Yedo was being shamed by her decisions. She - the alien - was hurting those that accepted her differences. She would never be a diplomat.

As soon as she had realized this, Amarek reached again with all the grace and finality that he had the first time to take a second roll which he sat directly beside the other. The cook's mouth hung agape before snapping shut. He crossed his arms and sniffed turning to the next diner whom she noticed took a single roll. Amarek slid across from her directly in front of Yedo as he bit into the roll once harshly his gaze still on the cook. Cora wanted to say something to him, but she didn't want to discuss it in front of Yedo. It wasn't the time nor the place. She felt the taut warmth of Amarek's curved thigh rest against her knee under the table. His field cracked with tension even as he sat in front of her looking the exact opposite. She wondered if this juxtaposition was another facet of angaran language that a mere 'deaf' human wouldn't understand. It was a message of nonchalance layered with a dire warning, and she knew it was trouble. She could feel it hum in her blood. His eyes found hers, and her face went hot and red. She looked down at her food unseeing. She didn't want to cause trouble - for the Initiative, Amarek, or Yedo - yet she had seemed to do just that with each passing day snowballing into greater depths that she carelessly misconstrued.

The silence lay between them broken. Yedo's cheeks had returned to the purple flush, and his eyes were downcast as he busied himself with his food. She wondered if he was embarrassed at the company in which he had placed himself. It wasn't fair to him.

"If you don't wish to come tonight..."

Yedo shook his head, and Amarek's field broke as his focus turned to the two of them.

"I know human culture is..." His eyes darted to the rolls on her plate and back to his own. "...different. But I - we angara - the people -"

His lips pressed into a thin line as he ripped his roll in half in frustration. Cora watched him look for the words, and she felt his field pulse with stutters and stops as she tried to ignore Amarek's questioning gaze. Eventually, she took pity on the young man.

"I would be happy to share with you." She didn't know what motherly instinct pulsed in her at that moment. It was the same feeling she had when she watched one of her roses bloom day by day. They were so far removed from their original planet, and yet they blossomed under her care. She had already removed Yedo from his people. The least she could do was nurture him. He sighed, and his field shrank into him leaving a void which Cora hadn't realized that she had begun to grow accustom.

"We are still alien. Would not the void be greater than that which is between Havarl and Aya? Maybe - maybe I should be more in tune with my people."

Amarek silently put half of his second roll onto Yedo's plate as if it were nothing. Cora nearly cringed. She had seen what it meant, and a part of her would not stand to see him drug into the middle of her battle. When Yedo looked up at him, Amarek looked bored more than anything else, but Cora had watched him more than she wanted to admit. That calm deameanor didn't match the uptick in his field.

"Sentience made you what you are. Don't let the collective overtake that."

Yedo's eyes widened before a frown spread over his face, and his field washed with disapproval - a reaction that Cora had not expected from the boy. The open angara was offended, and Amarek simply sat eating peacefully.

"I'm going to the Headquarters," Yedo said pointedly to Cora in a clipped voice.

She watched Yedo take his tray to scrape the dishes and distribute them into the correct bins. When he approached the can, his lips pressed into a line, and his brows pulled down over his eyes, but he gingerly took a cloth wrap and placed the roll in it wrapping it before turning to leave. She looked at Amarek intrigued and angry at his treatment but couldn't help seeing Yedo treating the bread as something fragile. It almost was. She was not culturally savvy, but she could see a battle being fought as the wheels turned.

"You're sharing." The voice was both a sentence and a question at once, and she turned to Amarek catching his fleeting glance. "I must admit that I did not realize your preferences leaned so young."

She flushed remembering Amarek's back as he disappeared into the shared rooms the previous evening. "They don't. He's sharing my domicile."

She had expected a relief in his stance, but his nonchalance pulled him into the powerful corded display that had so entranced her the night before in the humid Ayan twilight. "A worthy choice. Domiciles are free to all."

"Worthier than baiting a partner for the shared rooms."

His pupils dilated as he looked at her, and she felt a jolt of anger in his skin and his field as it brushed against her leg. "One should never dream of such."

The tension surprised her. Perhaps it shouldn't have. They had been friends of a sort, and he had never pressed her - only displayed and danced. But she had seen it. She had seen him enter alone, but she really had no idea from there. Her judgements were not always correct, and informed guesses were still simply guessing. She knew that.

"You - you do things that -" She glanced around the now somewhat bustling dining area before letting her eyes rest on his. "You don't have to stand up for me."

An audible hum filled his vicinity, and his features softened. He reached for her tray placing his hand over her own - warmth over cold skin, and she felt the thrum through him realizing he was purring in both body and field.

"Let me take this. Your domicile contains more than one bunk, yes? We can talk then."

She knew that he knew his culture better than her. He knew there were six bunks to a room, yet he asked. He always asked. He offered warmth and comfort, but most importantly, it was always her methodical human pace that he matched not expecting her to live up to angaran society. She nodded, and he took their trays. They walked in silence to the training room. The bite of the morning chill being deflected by his body heat. She wondered if it was an evolutionary adaptation - this warmth. Perhaps it was developed to ward against the continuous night chill on Havarl. Maybe an angaran soldier was more blessed to go to Voeld than Kadara. She supposed that was the reason it was home to the rebels. When they reached the entrance to the Headquarters, his warmth stayed a step behind her.

"Teacher Cora." His deep voice sounded odd in the hushed notes that he used. "Yedo - He does not understand. This is the only life he has known - war without peace and -" He looked around, and Cora knew he was seeing a different Aya in that moment. What had that past Aya looked like? What had it felt like? She wanted to ask, but more than anything, she wanted to be told. She wanted to live in Amarek's world for a moment.

The door behind her hissed open, and she jumped. She had not been aware of anything other than the reminiscence of her companion. It was the general. His eyes lingered on her with no more than what she thought was the usual amount of contempt before flicking to Amarek. A portion of her detested that flippant dismissal, but when his face turned into a scowl, she was only glad she was not on the receiving end.

"Amarek Davesh." It was acknowledgement and nothing more.

"General." Amarek's voice was polite - even pleasant, but it seemed only to disagree with the general more.

"I hear you checked into a shared room last night alone. I would be remiss to let your status-" The word was spat. "-lend you a reprieve from the duties that everyone shares in these times. It is a species-wide conflict after all."

Amarek smiled. "I believe Cora Harper would disagree. It is a galaxy-wide conflict, and it would be disgraceful to leave our allies out of our discussions on such matters."

The general turned to her. "Perhaps the Pathfinder should consider adopting our solutions. Maybe then our fellows would not feel so inclined to behave... distastefully."

Cora followed Amarek's example and smiled. "I believe I could persuade the Pathfinder. Provided your ideas show merit." She was thrilled at the hum of approval from Amarek.

Evfra simply stared at her. "Perhaps."

He nodded toward Amarek before simply walking away from the pair. Cora let out the breath she was holding and felt the tension melt. Amarek's field was still humming happiness as he watched the general disappear. He turned to her fixing her with his slitted eyes - the folds on his neck cording as he flexed.

"You have a class, yes? I am eager for today's lesson."

His tone had that deep seductive quality that she had come to notice in him, and she didn't know if it was due to the general's prodding or her general stubborn ways, but she didn't back down nor blush. She held her head higher and with a curt nod turned to teach her class. It was rewarding. Perhaps it had been the thrill she had gotten from confronting the powerful. As she walked through her class, she felt their fields extend and contract with her instructions and offered assistance where it was needed. Amarek stood beside Yedo guiding his hands and field through gentle nudges. It was sweet of him, but he was the only one that was helpful. The pair was secluded and untouched by their neighbors who shivered away from them - retreating along the fringes of the pair's fields. Unfortunately, Yedo even seemed to shy away from Amarek. The boy seemed nervous and sweated as they went through minor steps together. She wondered if Amarek's Aya would have shunned him or Yedo or both. She would have hoped not. She did not see what was incorrect about passion or privacy, but she was selfish. She was arrogant. She was human.

The general's eyes connecting with her own flashed in her mind. Why was he at the shared rooms? Maybe that was how he had known of Amarek's transgression. Maybe he was watching and listening. In all this time, Cora had never asked Amarek what his function - or status - was on Aya. She didn't know what he did when he was not in her class or his other duties. She hadn't seen him at the tavetaan either, but he was angara. He had a purpose on this planet as everyone did. She watched him take the sphere of field and manipulate it in front of Yedo murmuring. His fingers moved thickly as if pushing the energy was difficult. The thin strands connecting his field to his fingertips flashed like lightning. With a wink, his hands opened making the sphere dissipate. Cora imagined the field snapping back to his body and settling inside of his skin. He placed his hands on Yedo's shoulders lightly and stood letting the sparks build between their skin and slowly ran his hands down to end at Yedo's palms. The rivulets of biotic energy raced with his fingertips ending in the same sphere that Amarek had held himself though infinitely smaller. The lightning converged on the sphere which gradually shrank until no object could be seen between Yedo's hands. The field faded to nonexistence, and still Amarek stood watching Yedo's intent unseeing gaze. Eventually, the boy's breath released, and he blinked slowly and languidly as if waking from a dream. Amarek spoke to him with an easy approval, and Cora shook her head. Amarek was a fast student, and a part of her thought he would do a better job than she in this position.

A student touched her arm, and she tried not to flinch at the foreign contact before she turned to assist the others. Class passed quickly after that. Before she knew it, her students had absorbed her stretches as best they could, and she could see them waning. The angara acted as if they had been exercising intently for the last hour and a half. Sweat beaded most of their faces as they stood before her shivering in the chill of the air conditioning. Her biotic energy was different. She wondered if this was due to it being less natural. She had been augmented as many others were, and she had certainly not been the best at it. The thought left a pang in her heart that she quickly covered. The past had been left in the Milky Way, and she would be much better off if it stayed there if the communications were any judge.

She looked to Yedo and Amarek’s corner. The boy was resting on his haunches with his arms strung across his knees like limp rags. He looked fragile compared to the seasoned bulk of Amarek resting gently and intently in front of him. Amarek glanced to her at the dismissal before flickering back to his student. The other classmates paid him no mind. He was a ghost – a pariah in a web of community. Cora approached unsure of where to go or how to start. She bent down tucking her legs underneath her and followed Amarek’s gaze trying to see what he saw.

Yedo breathed deep and long something she would imagine a diver would do. His collarbone jutted precariously from his shoulders as his head hung forward as limp as his arm. He didn’t sweat. He was relaxed and deep as if in a trance. Cora thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep, but when she reached to touch him, Amarek caught her wrist gently.

“Wait,” he rumbled low, and Cora detected a note of awe in his voice. She looked harder at the boy hoping to see the sign that Amarek had seen, but she only saw his peace.

She took his advice and sat still. She tried to mimic Amarek for as long as possible. Patience had never been a virtue for her. The asari had helped her strengthen it, but sometimes the past pushed far into a person’s personality leaving scars that could only be painted. Her legs began to have pins and needles race up them, and eventually she did not even feel that. She envied Yedo’s limp arms and easy composure. At times, she was amazed she could even lay still long enough to sleep. His eyes blinked, and his breath stuttered before he realized they were both staring at him. A purple flush filled his cheeks.

“Did I do well?”

Amarek’s smile warmed. “Yes. Very well indeed.”

The boy glowed at the praise, but Cora was lost. She tried to shake it off when his eyes turned expectantly to her own. Amarek had seen value, so she simply smiled encouragingly. Her best student could not be wrong, and Yedo basked in the praise even though he seemed to be unused to it.

“You should be proud of yourself.”

Yedo froze, and his face fell. “Perhaps.”

He wouldn’t commit to the words. His hands became taut as rope as he sat mulling over his thoughts in silence. Cora wanted to smack herself. This was supposed to be a celebration from what she could tell, but she had ruined it once more with her careless words. Yedo stood and stretched. His long arms nearly scraped the ceiling.

“The tavetaan will be busy today. It will be good to join the community again, brother.”

His field rippled around him screaming the uncertainty in his voice, and Cora was a little touched. The pair had seemed to have a rocky relationship. It was much the same as her own. Yedo’s overture was very public and very risky. They had each taken the turn to become separate, and still Yedo would call Amarek brother bringing him in the public eye as a companion. Amarek’s gaze did not waver as he reached up allowing the young man to pull him to his feet their shoulders knocking – one steady and one tentative.

“It would be good to join you, Yedo.”

Yedo’s face had the same flush but brighter. His disapproval lined his field, but there was another touch. Cora thought she could see it in the curve of his spine as he stretched to his natural height. She hoped it was pride. What would it be like to be ‘brother’ first and ‘Yedo’ second? A part of her knew that. She had been ‘weapon’ before she had been ‘Cora’.

Amarek turned to her and held a hand to her. She looked at it then into his face. Was she ‘Cora’ to him? She could be ‘human’ or ‘teacher’. She thought of Alec. She was ‘Cora’ to him. It had been confusing after his death, and she had resented him for not handing his position to her, but he had understood. She had been ‘Cora’ to him, and she was glad it had stayed that way. She didn’t need to be Pathfinder. She had spent too long with titles and positions already, and she was worlds away from that now.

“Cora? You are hungry, yes?”

She nodded taking his hand. The lift was gentler and less urgent, but her shoulder did hit his chest. The hexagonal weave on the cloth of his shirt was close enough for her to see the stretch. The warm of his body and his hand was there and gone in an instant. He strode ahead leading the way. Yedo glanced at her waiting for her to follow. She did, and they stayed in step behind Amarek.


	5. Chapter 5

The domicile was odd that evening. Cora had come into the room first as cautious as a mouse in a cat’s lair. Amarek had split from her earlier that evening. He had not smiled when he departed. He had looked at her, and his teeth had been visible, but she was certain the look that he was conveying was not happiness. It made her cheeks heat, and her blood run cold. Yedo was more nervous. He had shuffled and shifted twisting his cup in circles as he created patterns in the condensation. She knew he was waiting, and she would be lying if she said that she was not as well. The tavetaan had shifted away from them leaving them in her corner – a situation preferable to her but unfortunate for her companion. She could feel his field stretch and snap back to his skin looking for the touch of another angara. She tried to entertain him with guesses about the passersby, but his restless mind and field prevented any semblance of focus. Eventually, they had left. Yedo’s field stuck to her empty space like glue as he entered the room behind her.

Liva’s bright face turned and fell in sequence into a mask of disgust – a more direct approach than most of the angara that she had seen today. The default mode had tended toward isolation rather than distaste. They were honest and open, but this was a side that Cora had never seen. It was an honesty of field and touch. It gaped between Liva and Yedo.

It was not a decision. Yedo cautiously took one of the eight bunks – sitting, testing, and resting his back against the wall. Liva left without a word to Yedo but cast a meaningful look at Cora. They had never been friends, but this slightly offensive gesture touched Cora in a way. It gave her a sense that she had become family enough by proximity to receive a concerned warning when she was in the process of crossing a dangerous path. She smiled at Liva who simply pushed her chin in the air and left. Cora could only suppose she was trying to find a secondary bunk. It was much the same with the other angara who poked their heads into the room only to promptly leave. At times, Cora received nods, but Yedo did not even warrant a second glance.

She wondered what Amarek would say to the young man as he stared at the ceiling losing hope with each onlooker of acceptance. He had stopped smiling back at them and reciprocating their field to sit and stare with unseeing eyes at the stucco. Amarek would make him feel proud, but she was afraid. What if her words made his shoulders sag more? What if the curve in his spine deepened where it slid away from the wall? What if his kinship was stronger than his desire? What if he regretted his decision and her aid? Cora was not built for this. His chest rose and fell with a rhythm that belied a torture in his soul, and his field was depressed into his skin. Oddly, this was the most human he had ever felt to her. This was the time when he was least alien.

“It is good to have friends with me tonight.”

The offer hung in the air as he breathed, blinked, and turned his thin face to her. His wide slitted eyes were dilated from the low pulsing light that filled the domiciles at night. The bioluminescent features and low lighting were cost effective and only ran on what charge was gained during daylight. They dimmed as the evening waned until no light was left. It felt like his pupils drank the light into their depths and stole the influence of the leering eyes as the room stayed empty.

“Friends?”

She swallowed and looked away before answering. “If you don’t think the same…”

He turned his gaze back to the ceiling, but the glow in his cheeks also returned. “It is odd to think you came light years to sit beside me and call me friend.”

She laughed a little, and he turned back to her with interest. She wasn’t certain she had won or not, but his field was a little lighter, and his face was quick and inquisitive once more.

“Are you… happy?”

The question surprised her a bit, and reality surprised her more. She was distant and different on this planet, but she was happy. It was odd that she had come so far to be happy, and the taste of the dream was spilling forth. She nodded with a smaller smile.

“It is so hard to tell without field,” sighed Yedo. “Features are distinct but secondary. I did not pay so much attention before I met you. Fields are easier. I have never heard you sound that way.”

“It is beautiful.”

Cora turned sharply to see Amarek standing in the doorway, and her cheeks flamed at the compliment. His deep eyes differing only in lines that detailed the years caught her face and held her prisoner before he broke the gaze and walked to a separate bunk. His scent wafted towards her. It was the unembellished smell of soap and hot water, and she envied it. With Yedo following her, she had been afraid to shower. She was not yet as open as that, and she couldn’t bear to leave him alone.

“It is. I like it. You are always so serious, Teacher Cora. Angara laugh easily. It is _avamant._ ”

“Rather like wellbeing but… holistic?”

Amarek’s nose scrunched a bit as he thought of the word, while Cora concentrated on dampening the enjoyable embarrassment she was currently suffering.

“It encourages dopamine flow in the body,” Yedo added helpfully.

“Quite.” Amarek sat on his bunk and reached to the ceiling sliding down against the wall. His ribs lifted from his torso, and his arms corded. A yawn escaped him. Cora found herself mulling over the things he had done previously as she watched him stretch. She kept replaying the way he had watched Yedo work with his bioelectrics. He had seemed strong, intent, and patient. It was a combination she had not ever seen in herself. He was a hunter, but the gentle touch of his soft encouragement presented a dichotomy. It left a greater interest in his position and his place in the ordered world of his people. When he emerged from his display, his eyes met hers, and she began selecting clothing stashed under her bunk as she prepared for a shower. Hopefully, she would not see Liva.

“I will be back.”

Amarek grinned, and his eyes crinkled around the edges. “We will save your bunk.”

She nearly smiled. The humor was expected from him, but the cringe from Yedo could also have been predicted and avoided. Any humor that could have been gleaned was swallowed with the blooming smile. She ducked through the door and walked with her eyes on her feet as her mind raced. She didn’t know what an ambassador did. She was never expected to be one.

The showers were in use although not heavily, but she could feel the sticky warmth as it began to cling to her clothes. There was a string of song coming from the door which her translator did not even bother trying to understand. The words drifted in easy cadences that to her untrained ear sounded less like words than an instrumental. She was glad of it. The words would have been in the way as she tried to clear her mind. The naked angaran bodies were enough of a distraction. Eyes did not judge her, but they looked curiously making her skin crawl.

The showers were simple and utilitarian. Shower heads on the roof using mostly gravity and little pressure to fall and simple drains directly below served to create the water flow. The lilting voice echoed off the walls and was joined by the humming of the fields surging and flowing through the room. Cora stepped under the shower and let the lukewarm water run down her body. The sun-warmed water was long gone by the time she chose to enter the showers. She would have liked it, but it was also the most popular time. Angaran did not believe in personal space. One shower was not necessarily for one angara. She closed her eyes and listened to the thrum and tried to forget the wandering eyes and Yedo’s shame. She focused on the trickles falling to her head and tracing their way down her cheek, neck, and breast. She exhaled. She rubbed the soap absently over her body.

She kept her eyes to herself. The showers did not discriminate. Men and women alike showered next to her without a care. Any human that had spent a length of time on Aya would have easily discovered the anatomy of the inhabitants. They were neither shy nor blunt. She only minded herself being looked upon. She half-wondered if this were a Milky Way staple. She did not think any species of the Milky Way deferred to nudity in this way. Asari – even being monogendered – had never been this open about their bodies. She wondered what other ways the Milky Way would clash with Andromeda.

She turned the water off. The muggy warmth permeated every part of her. Wrinkles puckered her fingers as she gingerly began to dress as she tried to keep the clothing from being any more wet than necessary. The coarse fabric grated against her skin. The training gear was carefully made to not chafe, but the same care was not given to sleeping clothes which was a city commodity. Soldiers came before civilians. She lifted the shirt over her head and dried her hair. The undercut was growing out, but angara did not have hair salons. She had dealt with this many times on missions. It was easily managed. A haircut could wait until she was back on the Nexus.

The hall was becoming more desolate when she emerged. The angara had either found a place to discuss and enjoy each other’s company or gone to bed. The tavetaan was a hot spot for these gatherings, but it was more common for the angaraan to gather in the domicile commons. From what she understood, the commons were more popular and more insular. The light from the commons spilled into the hall, and she wondered if there would be humans in there. She would be foolish to think that she was the only one in Aya, but she wondered if they resided in the domiciles as well. The Initiative had campaigned for an Embassy of sorts on the planet, and it had been granted after Meridian when the Exchange had gone well. The Embassy was essentially a domicile for the Initiative people. Angara had lingered outside the gates watching the Initiative turn the domicile into more than itself with offices and small experimental statements. They were curious, but she couldn’t help thinking that the watchers regarded the Initiative as daft if a bit silly. Her thoughts drifted to Yedo, and she revised her assumption. Maybe they had seem them as greedy to take a site of housing and turn it into more. In an angaran mind, it would be better for all to share than for the settlers to claim so much for their own.

She bit her lip and walked through the light barely glancing at the angara humming and smiling in the room. It seemed wrong again that she was here. Her people had contributed. Truly. But would it be enough? Was there an end to atonement?

She walked into her room and saw Amarek look up from a datapad. She blinked at him, and he stared at her over the frames of his glasses. It wasn’t shocking, but she had never known. He fought well without any visible aid. He put the datapad down in his lap and glanced toward Yedo. The young man was sleeping. His sides rose evenly as he breathed. His face was turned towards them and his back against the wall. Cora wondered if it were military training or simply the need to be assured another was close by.

“Do not worry too much for him.”

She turned back to Amarek. His pupils nearly filled his large eyes taking in the little available light, and she was utterly captivated for a moment. The grumble in his voice ran low through the room soothing rather than waking, and she suddenly recalled her father’s voice lightyears away reading a story to her before her world had ended. She had always loved deep voices and had always been ashamed of the reason. She nodded at him and folded her clothing before placing it under her bunk and sitting with her back against the wall.

The silence hung in the air. She felt it was comfortable, but her mind was racing. He was here. They were as alone as could be possible on Aya, and she had questions. But she wasn’t certain where to begin. His history? His position? The past of Aya and Havarl? Evfra? There was too much.

He moved. If she had not been trying to ignore him, she wouldn’t have noticed. His clothes barely rustled as he pulled his glasses off his face and laced his hands together in front of him.

“Tell me of your home planet.”

It was direct. She shouldn’t have thought it would be any less, but she was startled. Maybe that was why she answered so easily.

“What would you like to know about it?”

“Home is something essential to angara.” He paused and sat silent and still for a moment before swallowing and meeting her gaze. “For me. I desire to know of yours. It… makes humanity.”

She considered his word choice. It was not as fluid as he usually was. It was almost softer somehow and a little desperate. His pauses and the way his eyes darkened told her there was more hidden in this question than she could guess. She wondered what would answer that need.

“I was a warrior on Thessia – the asari home world – when I came of age. I joined under their leadership when I was fifteen.”

He let that hang in the air, and she felt the guilt rise as his expression shifted. She was afraid to offer more than that. She had kept secrets for far too long. Even now, they hid from her. Yet she thought of Amarek’s defiance, and above all, his preference to her. She swallowed and gathered herself.

“Before that, I was a spacer.” His breath released, and he leaned against the wall his eyes closing. She could almost feel him drinking her words even as she weighed them against her heart. “At least, that is the way I see it. I… visited many planets – though remote. There was nothing so large or noteworthy as Aya. But the ship was more home than any planet. Today… I suppose that is the Tempest. I prefer it. There were reasons the Milky Way was not… It was… Well, I chose to leave.”

She watched his chest rise and fall for a moment. It was not admission, but it was a reason. Perhaps this was why she found fascination in planet-side life but a knowing comfort in the cold metal of a ship. A primitive part of her yearned to bury her toes in the sand and sleep in the sun, but it was not safe. It was more unknown than apathy.

“That is understandable.” He sighed and blinked lazily at her under a lowered brow. She noticed his clasped hands were more than clasped. They were clenched. “Leaving a home that does not befit you takes its own sort of courage. You are a brave sailor.”

She felt the giggle rise to her throat, and he looked at her in surprise. “Sailor,” she explained. “Perhaps it is translation. Sailor is often associated with sea travel. We would say spacer.”

“Ah. A sea. A large body of water. I apologize.”

She shook her head and turned to lay on her bunk. The question that he ventured made her feel obligated to return the favor. “What is home to you?”

He breathed and relaxed his hands. “It is _tamuna -_ between the setting sun and night. There are many family members and bodies. They press but do not enter. I would say that I had a normal household, but how relevant would that be? What is normal when the world is mixed? Yet that is good. As you did, I chose to leave. It is better without pressing – with a new normal. I had hoped that standards would be made anew. But some things seem to follow as one moves.” His voice grew faint near the end as if he were trying to convince himself. A morose chuckle filled the room as his dark eyes rose to meet hers. “Perhaps I should go to your Milky Way, yes? I would be delighted to be as brave as the woman I admire.”

At any other time, Cora would have blushed at the compliment, but it was so unlike him. The earlier strength had sapped away to a remnant of the man she had known. He waited with a small self-deprecating smile on his lips, and her heart faltered. She hated that smile. It was not Amarek. It was an imposter. She would not meet it.

“I ran away,” she breathed, and the anger flooded through her body. “I left my problems. Thessia nearly died. The Milky Way nearly collapsed, and I was safe. I was asleep.”

She wouldn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping the tears wouldn’t come. Nights always brought regrets. She found it easiest to sleep through them. There had been a time when she hadn’t doubted her decision. When the Reaper transmission had come through, it had ripped that security apart, and she had been avoiding facing it ever since. She felt his field hum warmth through her skin, and she flinched from it.

“Perhaps…” His voice cut through the air, and she went stiff at the spoken words. “Perhaps it is not the distance that matters but the deeds that follow. You have saved my people, Cora, and I will forever be grateful that you accomplished something that I could not. Even the general recognizes that. It is why he is threatened.”

“Is that worth it? Should I sacrifice my own to save another?”

“…It was the right decision for me, and I have done it twice. I will not pretend it is easy, but hope is a potent drug. When I see the differences that I have returned, it saddens me, but when I see life that would have perished, it was the correct choice.”

Cora thought of Amarek’s tender eyes watching the mother and the child walk home from the market, and she could feel that same warmth run through his field again. She knew that he was right. No decision came without cost. Thessia had taught her that, but she kept questioning if she could have prevented it all. She had been replaced, and she had had to leave. It was no use thinking of the what-ifs. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she looked up at Amarek. The screen of the datapad had turned off, and the only light came from the bioluminescent clock on the wall. It tinged Amarek’s nearly glowing skin, and she could almost swear that she could see his field stretching across the meager five feet separating their bunks. He may not be alive right now if she hadn’t come here, and somehow it eased her sobs almost as much as the hum of his field.

“Tell me what Aya was like before the Kett.”

“It was beautiful. There were problems, yes, but it was filled with a hope that I had never seen on Havarl.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“ _Havaasha_ , I am of Havarl. It is the blue, you see?” He held his hand up and rotated it. The light played on his scars mesmerizing Cora for a moment. “We are all different, certainly. But Aya was still a young garden when I came to it.”

She sat up on her elbow in interest. “You do not seem that old.”

He shrugged. “The Kett made expansion quick and necessary. Aya was young but strong. They visited, but there were easier targets. I am ashamed that it happened at all, but I am happy that Aya was safe. She was beautiful.”

Cora wanted to know more of the war, but the lost look in Amarek’s eyes as he went back to another time and – for all intents and purposes – another place made her hold her tongue. She lay back down listening to him tell the height and girth of the trees, the strange phenomenon of daylight, and the climbing of the trees to set the foundation for the treetop city she slept in today. His tales described a wildland that captured her imagination, and she fell into a dream of Amarek laughing during his first afternoon when there was no word for such a thing. His hum ran thru her as she slept, and for once, she overslept.


End file.
